


It's a Cool and Broken Hallelujah

by goodnightfern



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Feminism as Explained by Ten Year Old Children, Other, Shrek - Freeform, the one where Miller's Maxi Buns is actually McDonalds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:37:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightfern/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: wish 78: the year is 2002 and master miller has seen Shrek 20 times now. please cathy. please move onto another movie. early 2000s dad kaz. All Star is burned into the depths of his brain.





	It's a Cool and Broken Hallelujah

“But _Daaad,_ Shrek is _feminism_.” Cathy jumps on the shopping cart, rolls down the aisle, and nearly murders a pregnant woman trying to buy pasta. Kaz would stop her if he wasn’t too busy glaring at the macaroni and cheese varieties.

The only possible response to that is: “Excuse me?”

“Because she doesn’t have to be pretty to find love!”

Kaz groans and picks up a box of Shrek-shaped pasta with green cheese sauce, for feminism. Really? Even the pasta? Why did the suits at Kraft decided a movie wherein a donkey fucks a dragon would be the new face of food? It isn’t just the mac and cheese; it’s the yogurt tubes he always throws in Cathy’s lunchbox. Ketchup, peanut butter, fruit snacks, fucking chicken nuggets. Which just happen to be all of Cathy’s favorite foods. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had cake pans shaped like the ogre’s head - though, there’s an idea for Cathy’s next birthday.

Kaz shudders at the thought. He’ll stick to the mac and cheese for now. If he throws in a can of tuna and some frozen veggies, it’s almost a balanced meal.

At dinner time Nadine blanches when he unveils the pot. “Uh-uh. No way. That doesn’t look right.”

“Mom, look.” Cathy dodges Kaz’s hands to dip her fork in. “See? Look at the shapes.”

Nadine peers at the noodle, then brightens. “Oh! It’s Shrek! Aw, that’s cute. So it’s green, like, so it’s like you get to eat Shrek’s head.”

Kaz stares at his wife. “Did you just call it cute?”

“Yeah?” Nadine, forgoing all dinner table rules, also goes on to dip her fork in the pasta. “I love Shrek. It’s like, it’s feminist. You know?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Fiona, she’s not one of those lame Disney princess. She’s cool, and she’s a big green monster. I dunno. I think it’s nice. Better than Snow White or whoever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaz says distractedly. He liked Cinderella, but whatever. This is the last thing he wants to discuss at dinner time. “Cathy, quit picking out the veggies. What’s the matter with you? Peas are green, too. Just like Shrek.”

“You know what you gotta do,” Nadine says, snatching another bite of Shrek. “You gotta make a Shrek burger.”

“No.”

“It’d be good for business!”

“I know what’s good for business. And unless I’m getting a fat check from Dreamworks, I’m not gonna advertise some cartoon.”

“Little green ketchup packets,” Nadine coos. “Think about it. It’d be cute.”

Kaz has no intention of making a Shrek burger. But when he gets a call from the Dreamworks marketing department, he has to agree that integrity is also bad for business. McDonnell’s is a rapidly growing franchise with twenty-six locations on the West coast, and that fat check will be their ticket to the Midwest expansion. The good people of Cincinnati and Kansas City need a McDonnells, and if he doesn't take it they'll probably go to Whataburger next. Fuck Whataburger.

So Kaz can make Shrek-shaped burger patties, all right, but it doesn't mean he's going to watch the movie for the upteenth time, or be especially happy to find the soundtrack in his car’s CD player when he’s heading out to the McDonnell’s Food Lab to implement the new Shrektacular menu.

He presses eject immediately. Glares at the smug green face on the CD. Comes _this_ close to snapping it in half.

Fucking Nadine borrows his car one time -

When he gets home from developing the all new Swamp Sauce (exactly the same as it always was, but for FD&C Green #3 and some liquid smoke for that authentic swamp flavor) he pulls Nadine into the kitchen and throws the offending CD on the counter.

“I’m _this_ close,” he says. “I’m this goddamn close. If I have to hear that shooting star song one more time _”

And as if on fucking cue, from the living room: _somebody once told me_ -

“Cathy, don’t you have homework?”

“It’s done!”

Nadine doesn't laugh out loud, at least, but she does a terrible job of hiding her grin. “Ben. It’s just a kids movie. Relax.”

“But _Nadine_ -” Is he whining? He's not that pathetic, is he? 

“You never had younger siblings, huh?” She pats his arm. “It's okay. I’ll have them turn down the volume.”

Them? Great. All her little friends are here, too. Kaz isn't going to make them turn it off, he doesn’t want to embarrass her in front of her crew. He’ll just… start making dinner. Ignore the sounds from the living room.

And he won’t make the Shrek shaped chicken nuggets in the freezer. Spaghetti and meatballs, he decides. With spinach puree in both the sauce and the meatball to sneak in some veggies. The other parents will thank him for it.

An awful sound from the TV room startles him as he's cleaning spinach off the immersion blender. He very nearly stabs himself before he remembers it’s the scene where Fiona kills a bird. She’s singing like one of the Disney princesses, but somehow or another she kills it. Then they eat it or something? Fairly practical and realistic scene, for a dumbass kid’s movie.

Kaz chuckles. _Realizes_ he’s chuckling.

Okay. So the first three times he saw Shrek, it wasn’t that bad. Eddie Murphy is always great, and he should quit being an asshole and bring the kids some juice or something.

So Kaz fills a pitcher with yes, the green Kool-aid. Grabs a bunch of paper cups and swings into the living room with his best Cool Dad voice, “Whooo’s ready for some swamp juice -”

The third person isn't who he expected. At all.

But there he is: Ocelot, seated in between his wife and daughter, is wearing Cathy’s _fucking_ Shrek-antennae headband.

“Hello, Kaz.”

Kaz licks his lips.

“I heard,” Ocelot says, gesturing at the screen, “that this film was a seminal work of feminist art.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And so far, I must admit I agree. For example, Shrek's swamp serves as an excellent metaphor for the mire of toxic masculinity he finds himself trapped in, and -”

“I can’t hear the movie!” Cathy squawks.

“And _that_ was my last brain cell,” Kaz says, and goes back to his spaghetti.

For the next six months Kaz endures. He distributes the soundtrack to every McDonnell's franchise to supplant his easy-listening radio. Adds the entire line of toys to the Kids Meals and even changes product packaging for the film. And when it's finally released to DVD and the hype dies down and Cathy finally stops picking it for every goddamn movie night, he breathes a heavy sigh of relief. By the time the sequel comes out Cathy is over it, and the McDonnell's Swamp Sauce formula is confined to the archive.

Yet Dreamworks isn't finished with him yet.

In 2005, Madagascar comes out in theaters. 


End file.
